


promise you'll remember

by nightwideopen



Series: Single Dad Louis [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Past Character Death, Single Parent Louis, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:12:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5271002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwideopen/pseuds/nightwideopen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a widower whose daughter's fish just died. He panics, then ends up meeting Harry, a marine biologist who is out to steal his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	promise you'll remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crisscolfer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisscolfer/gifts).



> HERE IT IS MY SECOND DAD FIC AGAINST MY WILL
> 
> This is loosely based on that kia commercial where this guy sees his daughter's fish is dead and rushes to buy a new one before she finds out... There is a twist.
> 
> Trigger warnings for blood, death, a car crash, and bouts of amnesia and dissociation. 
> 
> I forced myself to write smut for the first time so don't fucking make fun of me. I'll come the fuck after you. I probably won't I'll probably just cry because I am sensitive so don't make fun of me.
> 
> This is a long note. This fic was barely edited.
> 
> Title from One Direction's Summer Love for... whatever reason. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It's the middle of the night, and Louis can't sleep for some reason. 

He's a sound sleeper - the soundest sleeper he knows, probably - but suddenly he can't get comfortable, and he can't keep his eyes shut, and every time he closes his eyes he has flashbacks to that night. It’s a bit dramatic, and hasn’t happened for a while now, but he can’t get seem to get his thoughts under control. Tea, he thinks will help, so that's what he's gotten up to get. 

The tiled kitchen floor is cold under his feet, so he sits atop the island while he waits for the water to boil. He looks down at his feet sadly, watching them swing pathetically so high up from the floor. Maybe if he wasn’t so goddamn short and didn’t kick his feet when he sat on elevated things, people would take him more seriously at work.

“Do you think height corresponds with respect, Bubbly?” Louis doesn’t look at the fishbowl, but he knows that Bubbly is listening. Bubbly always listens to him. “I think it does. I think that no one listens to what I say because it’s really not too intimidating when I can’t even reach my own top shelf in my office. "

But when he looks at the fishbowl to gauge Bubbly's response, he has to do a double take. Bubbly's yellow and orange scales are pale and lifeless and he's belly-up, floating at the surface of the water. Even his orange and black fan-like tail has gone all droopy. 

There were many things that Louis Tomlinson was able to prepare for in his life. He was ready for his first day of school, his last day of school, the divorce of his parents, his first day of work, his wedding day, his daughter's birth. He was ready for the day his boss promoted him, the day he got fired, the day he was accepted to his new job, the day he had to pack him and his daughter up to move to a new town. He was ready for his daughter’s first day of school, the day she said she wanted to visit her Mum for the first time. 

He was ready for all of that, knew how to handle it. But nothing could've prepared him for the day (or night, rather) that his baby Marley's fish dies.

So naturally, he panics. 

There's three things he can do. Louis can dump the fish now, so his daughter won't have to see her beloved pet dead and explain to her in the morning the circle of life while she most likely cries. Or he can go back to bed, pretend he saw nothing and let her find it, then he can simply explain to her the circle of life while she most likely cries. 

The third option is to replace the fish. And then it'll be like it never happened. And he won't have to see his daughter cry over the death of her first pet.

Louis is a cowardly idiot, so he runs to the next door apartment and knocks on the door lightly but loudly. It's Niall's apartment, who's sure to be up at four in the morning, whether it be playing video games or writing music.

"Who's there?"

"I don't have time for jokes, Niall!"

The door opens shortly after, revealing a very awake and freshly bleached blonde Niall. He’s got a pencil behind his ear and a plastic cup gripped between his teeth, his guitar slung over his shoulder.

“What is it that you _do_ have time for?”

Louis rolls his eyes, something he does a lot in Niall’s presence. “Need you to watch Marley. For like, an hour or two. You can just sit in the living room and continue whatever you were doing. Just don’t b–”

“Be too loud. I know, Louis.” Niall is rude sometimes. “How many times have you done this to me, I know the drill. I’ll call you if something’s wrong and if she wakes up don’t let her in the kitchen. She sleepwalks and she asks for puppies in her sleep, say yes and don’t wake her. Just go... do what you gotta do. Don’t really wanna know about your late night rendezvouses.”

“It’s not–” No, he doesn’t have time for this. “Whatever. I’ll be back. Don’t kill my child.”

-

Speeding down an empty stretch of road in the middle of March isn’t Louis’ smartest move. He’s blasting Hozier to calm his nerves, periodically wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

_Why were you digging, what did you bury, before those hands pulled me from the earth?_

Somehow, when he turns a corner too sharply and recovers his previous speed, he expects the screech of tires and bright flash of headlights in his eyes. He slams on his own brakes, praying with his eyes squeezed shut that he doesn't die. He can't die. He can't leave his baby girl alone. He can't do this to her again.

All Louis hears is the crunch of metal and his heartbeat in his ears, along with his own pathetic whimpering. By the time both vehicles have stopped, Louis is dizzy, a hand on his head where he thinks he's knocked it against the windshield. He can't bring himself to open his eyes, too afraid of seeing too much blood or one of his limbs where it shouldn't be. Louis is pumped full of adrenaline and pure terror, but he has enough sense to know that he should probably check on the other driver.

He can’t fucking breathe, is the thing. Her screams are still echoing in his ears, the nightmare he had an hour ago still fresh in his mind. The memory of her blood on his hands is stopping him from opening his eyes, but he knows that if he doesn’t, the flashes of that night aren’t going to stop.

Louis wrenches his eyes open, looking down to find that his limbs are all very much where they should be. He's able to breathe just a tiny bit easier, the pain in his shoulder finally making itself known. And when he draws his hand back from his head, it's covered in blood, which corresponds with the red liquid that's visible around the crack in the glass.

That only serves to make his whole body tremble with fear, the excess of everything he was trying not to feel on that night. He has to get out.

Louis stumbles out of his truck, still clutching his head. His vision is blurred, but from what he can see the damage is... not minimal. He doesn't see another person stumbling around like him, so he makes his way over to the driver's side of the other car and pulls the door open. Louis sees a head of long, curly hair resting on the steering wheel, and the last thing he needs right now is to have killed someone. Again.

"Hey," he uses his free hand to shake the person, "Hey, wake up. Wake up, please, please wake up."

It must be the desperation in his voice that does it, because the driver groans, barely audibly, but they lift their head off of the wheel and search around for who's waking them.

"Hey," Louis repeats, softer. "Are you alright?"

The driver is a man, Louis sees, with frantic, bright green eyes that are lit up by Louis' single intact headlight. He nods, and Louis nods back. 

"Okay," he says, "I'm gonna call for some help, stay put. Alright? What's your name?"

"Har– Harry. Styles. Harry St-Styles. I'm–" He doesn't seem able to say much more, because he starts crying. "S-sorr– sorry."

It's only fair to Louis that he encounters the one thing he was trying to avoid: Tears. But now he’s got another person to take care of, so he kicks into Dad Mode and brushes all of this anxiety aside, and channels it into keeping this stranger calm and well.

"Right, okay, none of that." He reaches over Harry's lap, on his tip-toes to reach into the tall truck, and unbuckles the seat belt. "I’m Louis, by the way. Careful, now, you've got a head injury. We can't risk anything."

Once Harry steps down from the vehicle, all of his weight comes crashing down onto Louis. He manages to keep them from falling too hard, though, and gently lowers Harry onto the pavement. 

Now, Louis is no doctor, but he's seen enough _Grey's Anatomy_ to pretend that he knows what he should and shouldn't do. He keeps Harry propped up against him, trying to assess his injuries. Louis has probably got a dislocated shoulder himself, but Harry's head is dripping a steady stream of blood right down his cheek to his chin. Louis' own head is bleeding, much less profusely, and every breath he takes is like a knife to his kidney. He tries his hardest keep all this mental list as he dials 999. 

After he's given the operator their very vague location, he calls Niall. He tells him to wake Marley, for them to meet him at the hospital. Niall sounds downright hysterical, while Louis is somehow still numbly holding himself together.

This reminds Louis of that first morning that he woke up alone in bed. He hadn't cried then, either, hadn't panicked or felt very different. Everything was blurry, like it is now, only then he'd sort of known how to handle himself. Now, though... now he doesn't know what to do.

Harry's crying gets a bit ragged, and brings Louis back to the present.

"Woah, Harry breathe." His voice doesn't even sound like his own. "Deep breaths, listen to me. You need to stop that or you're gonna pass out. You need to calm down. Do you have any family? Anyone you want me to call for you?"

Harry nods, still short of breathe. "My m-my mum. Can you call my mum please?"

"Yeah, yes, of course. What's her number?" Harry recites it to him and as the ringing sounds in his ear he turns back to Harry. "How old are you? What do you do, tell me about yourself. You gotta keep your eyes open for me, okay? Stay awake, please."

_Hello?_

"Hi, um-"

"Anne," Harry supplies.

"Anne, right. Look, I'm here with your son, Harry. He's got into a bit of an accident." The gasp on the other end of the line makes Louis' gut twist. "I just. I wanted to let you know. I'm very, very sorry. He's fine! He's awake and he's breathing and talking. He hit his head but-"

"I'm-" Anne's crying unsettles Louis' stomach further, "I'll meet you guys at- at the hospital. Please take care of him."

"Of cour-" The line goes dead before he can finish. "Okay." He turns his attention back to Harry, and he can already hear the sirens in the distance. "Harry? Do you remember my questions? Can you answer them for me?"

"M' twenty-five," Harry mumbles into Louis' coat, shivering from the cold. He's four years younger than Louis. "I work at the aquarium outside of town."

"Mhm," Louis' fatherly instinct kicks in, and he runs a hand through Harry's blood matted hair, chuckling at his lame attempt of a joke, "Tell me more, keep awake, you hear me?"

"I live with my mum and stepdad. And I have a sister. I'm studying to be a marine biologist."

The sirens get deafeningly loud just as Harry finishes up his sentence, and Louis is remotely disappointed. He wants to hear more about the curly haired lad, but they're both getting wheeled into separate ambulances. Louis' eyes start to get heavy as he stares at the bright ceiling, the siren's muffled wailing providing background for his thoughts, which are a loop of profuse apologies. Or maybe he's saying them out loud.

The last thing he sees behind the his eyelids is lifeless green eyes before he loses consciousness.

-

"Daddy! Daddy wake up! Wake up!" The sound of his daughter's hysterical pleas pull him from sleep. 

"Leave him, M.J, he's got to rest. Stop that."

It's Niall. 

Louis's still groggy but the memory comes back to him all at once. His eyes open, the blinding white light of the hospital room instantly sending a shooting pain to his head, and he groans.

"Daddy!"

He searches for her, every movement of his eyes painful. But when his eyes land upon the six year old, the pain is worth it. She's there, crying, but she's there. She's still in her pajamas, hair pushed back with one of Louis' old, thin black headbands. He reaches out to her right away.

"Marley, baby, come here." He helps her climb into bed, immediately pulling her close, nose in her neck. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, _so_ sorry. I’ll never do that again. I– Are you okay?" She nods.

Niall seems reluctant to break the moment, shifting his weight back and forth by the foot of the bed, but he does it anyway.

"What the hell even happened? Where were you going?" His voice is hoarse, worse than Louis has ever heard it even on the nights that Niall stumbles home and into the wrong flat. "How did this happen?"

Louis recounts the story with less detail than necessary and a bit of lies thrown in for the sake of his daughter. There are a few moments where he feels awful for not telling the truth, where he feels that now would be a good time to break the news while she's concerned with him. He can't bring himself to, though, lest she get more upset.

And just as he’s getting to the good part, the door is swung open, and probably would’ve been slammed into the wall had it not been for the rubber door stopper. It’s a man, a tall man with a bandage wrapped around his head, curls sticking out of one side. He’s gasping for air, wide green eyes frantic, and Louis is about to wonder who the hell it is when he recognizes those eyes, the last one's he'd seen before waking up here. 

"Harry?"

Harry nods, letting out a sigh as if it's a relief that Louis has remembered his name. "I had to come find you. You– you saved my life, and I had to come and thank you and I'm just–" He looks so panicked. "I'm so sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry for this; it was all my fault. I had the radio loud, and I wasn't paying attention and-" his eyes land on Marley, "Is that your _daughter_ , oh God, what've I _done_. I'm–"

Louis doesn't know exactly what to say even after Harry's cut himself off to cry. He's just standing in the doorway, sniffling uncontrollably with tears dripping of his chin.

"Wh– no, Harry, it's _okay._ Calm down, please." Louis gives Niall a look that clearly says _help_ , but Niall just shrugs at him, looking strangely unaffected by the situation. "Harry, it's my fault as well, I was going real bloody fast. Look– are you alright, though? How did you even find me?"

It takes Harry the few moments of silence and staring from three sets of eyes to collect himself, but he manages. 

“This isn’t the first room I’ve run into unannounced,” he replies sheepishly. He then looks directly at Marley, his eyes still brimmed with tears, and his face collapses, pity and sorrow replacing his blank stare. He’s made his way out of the doorway, halfway to Louis’ bed. His heart is racing, more with every step that Harry takes towards his daughter. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Harry, it’s that he doesn’t know him, and that he’s being a bit erratic and emotional at the moment.

“I’m really sorry for hurting your dad, you have no idea. He’s so sweet and kind and he’s very good at taking care of others, isn’t he? I bet he’s the best dad in the world.” 

Marley seems to forget everything that Louis has ever told her about strangers in that moment, as she nods enthusiastically. “He’s the best. Always takes the best care of me. Did he really save your life?” Her blue eyes that match Louis’ exactly turn to look at her father in absolute wonder. Her expression is beyond bewildered, it’s admiration and pride and love all in one.

“He sure did. He’s a regular superhero.” Harry’s smile puts Louis at ease, it’s gentle and calm, makes Louis think that he’s been around kids before. He turns back to Louis. “Doctor said had you let me fall asleep I wouldn’t have woken up.”

“Harry!” A woman that’s the spitting image of Harry himself storms into the room. “Why’re you bothering these people, you loon?”

“It’s fine, really,” Louis insists. He’s not sure how true it is, but he doesn’t want Harry to feel bad. “It’s good he came by, I was wondering how he was doing.” 

“Yeah, Gemma, it’s fine, see? I just wanted to see Louis and,” he turns back to Louis, eyes darting to his hand, “Thank you and apologise to your... family." He faces Niall as Gemma starts to pull him out if the room. "You're a very lucky man."

Both Louis and Niall open their mouths to correct him, but Gemma’s shut the door behind them before they can so much as make a sound of denial. Louis looks at his hand, his wedding ring glinting in the light as he picks it up, and he realises what Harry must think. Louis starts laughing at the same time that Niall does, clutching his side when the force of it sends a sharp pain through him.

“Fuck.” Niall and Marley look immediately concerned. “Guess the prospect of us being together is so funny it hurts.”

Niall scoffs. “You’re an idiot.”

-

Louis doesn't know what makes him do it; one minute he's curled up warm in his bed after saying an entirely too saccharine goodnight to Marley, and the next he's slinking down the hall with his IV line in his backless hospital gown and arm in a sling like in every damn movie. The only difference is that Louis isn't getting paid to show off his arse, so he'd slipped on boxers first.

Maybe it's the adrenaline rush he gets from sneaking out when he's technically still bedridden, or maybe the feeling of being able to walk briskly along despite the pain in his side that's making him feel like an idiot kid again. It reminds him of when he was young and stupid, when he thought he was invincible, escaping his second floor childhood bedroom nearly every Friday night against his mother's punishment from the last time he'd snuck out. 

Either way, Louis doesn't really know why he's doing this. All that Louis really knows is that he has absolutely no idea where he's going. He imagines Harry would've been placed in the ICU, with a head trauma like that, but he's hardly comatose, and seemed more than fine in contrast to the injury he suffered. So Louis just takes to reading the name cards outside of every door of his wing and hoping for the best.

He's just about to give up when he spots the name _Styles, Harry_ by some remarkable stroke of good fortune. He crosses his fingers, hoping that it's his Harry— His Harry. Louis' thoughts are getting oddly possessive. Though, how many _Styles, Harry_ ’s can there possibly be?

Louis is met with a dark window, and has to cup his hand over his eyes to see inside. The lights are off, but Louis can make out the shining light of a phone screen illuminating Harry's face. Fortunately, it's the Harry that he's looking for. On any other day Louis would've had the common decency to knock, but his heart is racing and it's four in the morning, so his judgement has understandably gone a little awry. It’s this thought process leads him to push open the door with no warning.

Louis stumbles through the doorway, his IV pole knocking into the wall and startling Harry as an unfortunate result. Harry drops his phone, as well. The clack of it on the floor has Louis cringing; He really hopes there isn’t a crack in the screen.

“If you’re going to kill me, make it quick!”

Louis laughs at the outburst and flicks on the light. “Good to know how you react in a time of crisis.”

“Louis? What are you doing here?” Harry’s squinting against the brightness. His cringe looks painful.

“Do you want me to shut the light? I don’t mind.” Harry hesitates for a moment but nods. “And I can’t pay my crash victims a visit? I did save your life, after all.” Louis makes himself comfortable on Harry’s bed, noting that it’s much more comfortable than his own as he settles under the thin sheet. Harry doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

Louis suddenly realises that he’s a grown man, cuddling up to a stranger that’s four years his junior. This doesn’t feel quite real, almost like a dream or a fairy tale story. Albeit not all fairy tales begin with dead fish and car crashes, Louis thinks that his just might.

“Right, no. I mean– yeah.” Louis looks at him, and is met with scrunched up features. Harry’s staring hard at his own ring-clad fingers, appearing angry with himself that he can’t find the right words. “Sorry about earlier; I wigged out a bit. M’not usually so… wired.”

Louis nods in understanding. “You did take a bit of a blow to the head. It’s a miracle you’re alright, if just a little concussed.”

There’s a gap in the conversation, Harry seemingly unable to gather his thoughts. He appears to snap back quickly enough, but the pause coupled with Harry's facial expression nearly send Louis into Dad Mode again. 

Louis nudges Harry's shoulder with his own. "You okay there?" he presses gently.

"What?" Harry looks genuinely startled for a moment. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just not used to all these drugs, I guess."

"Yeah," Louis echoes. He stays silent for a moment. Then, "So what exactly do you do, Harry? Said you study marine biology, if I do remember correctly."

Harry hums his confirmation. "My last semester before I'm all my own. M'probably gonna stay working at the aquarium that I'm interning at now. They really like me there."

Louis expresses his amazement at the feat, since he'd never possessed any inclination towards animals, he asks Harry countless questions on why he chose this as his profession. Harry responds enthusiastically, his smile lighting up the room with a clear indication of just how passionate he is about the subject. Louis is able to learn a lot about Harry in the time between him sneaking into the room and the nurse coming and kicking him out because it's 7AM and they're being too loud. Louis says a quick goodnight ("Don't you mean good morning?" Harry corrects with a smirk.), suddenly feeling the fatigue hit him. Harry returns the sentiment with the smile that Louis has come to love seeing over the last few hours while the nurse pokes and prods at him. She claims that they have to run a few routine checks, and shuffles Louis out of the room quickly.

Louis misses Harry immediately. He'd quickly gotten accustomed to the quick wit and dry humour, the way Harry talks so animatedly and thoroughly about the things that are important to him. Louis realises that he didn't tell Harry half as much as Harry told him. And as he tucks himself into his bed, he shrugs, thinking that that's all the more reason to see Harry again.

His last thought before he drifts off, is that Marley would really like Harry.

-

Louis wakes up to what feels like a smaller nose pressed up against his own. The sensation makes him smile before he even opens his eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine.” 

A giggle that only a child can produce echoes through the room, and it makes Louis open his eyes. Marley’s face is much too close to his, but it’s fine because this is how she wakes him up every morning. He leans in and bites her nose gently, just like he always does, and Marley squeals. 

"How did you sleep last night? Niall didn't play his tunes too loud, I hope."

Marley scrunches her nose, which is identical to her father's. "Never. Uncle Niall always plays it low. He's very good." 

"I'm sure he is." Louis hugs Marley tight, shaking his head at Niall to let him know that Louis doesn't think he's very good at all. "Do you remember Harry from yesterday, love?"

"The man who said you're a superhero?" Louis nods. "He was nice." 

"Would you like to go pay him a visit? I think he could use some company."

Marley nods more enthusiastically than Louis had expected. She's always been a people person, too excited to befriend strangers but never too trusting. She's smart, because her mother taught her well and– Louis misses her so fucking much. He's sees her in Marley everyday, in moments like these more than ever, when she’s so full of life and happiness and eagerness to be the best person she can be. That’s all they ever wanted for her, as parents, for her to be the best she can be. His heart swells in response to the thought of how amazing she is, how much he loves her and how bright she shines despite all that she’s been through. He hates the fact that it’s her that keeps him going when he should be the one being strong for her. He hates that she had to watch him fall apart and be but only the ghost of her father for months on end at such a young age. And still even after all this time, he wouldn’t even get out of bed if it weren’t for the little girl attached to the tiny nose that rouses him from sleep with a request for chocolate chip pancakes each morning. She knows that, and she still shines brighter than the fucking sun and continues to chase all of his clouds away.

That’s why he can’t help it when he says, “Your mum would be so proud of you. Of how lovely you are. You know that?”

“Really?” Her smile goes a little sad, because she’s years beyond her age in understanding how to process emotions. “D’you really think so?”

“I know so.”

-

It just so happens that Harry doesn’t have any visitors when they decide to stop hugging and venture over to his room. He is pleasantly surprised when he sees the apparently already familiar face at his hospital room window, and even more excited when Marley’s rosy cheeks make an appearance over the threshold. His smile falters just a tad when Niall enters as well with a cheery greeting, but if he’s disappointed, he doesn’t let it show.

Louis was allowed to change into actual clothes today, but still has to carry around his IV line with morphine since the pain in his abdomen refuses to subside.

“Nice shirt,” is the first thing Harry says to him. 

Louis looks down at the shirt. It’s a picture of him and Niall on his stag night, spectacularly wasted and hanging off of each other like drunken American frat boys. Niall gave it to him as a gift the next day, leaving Louis with a million questions, many of which were variations of _how in the hell did he get this photograph printed on a t-shirt so fast?_ He immediately regrets letting Niall choose which clothes to bring him rather than his sweet daughter, and wonders how the fuck he managed to miss which shirt he’d pulled over his head. In retrospect, he was very tired.

“Thanks. It was a gift.”

The three of them move to find seats; Marley shamelessly scrambling onto the bed at Harry’s feet, Niall taking the only chair in the room. It leaves Louis nowhere to sit, until Harry moves over where he’s sitting. He edges worryingly close to the edge of the bed, so close that Louis is afraid he might fall off. It’s only then that Louis remembers that Harry stills thinks that he and Niall are married.

“Why were you two at the same stag party anyway? Aren’t your friends supposed to split you up even if it’s not particularly what the original wedding tradition makers had in mind?”

Louis has to laugh at him before he can begin his explanation. He gives Niall a sort of don’t-say-a-word look and proceeds.

“I mean, they would’ve had Niall here not been the one who threw the party.” A look of pure confusion takes its place on Harry’s face, and Louis is so ready for his reaction. “Harry, Niall was the best man at _my_ wedding. To my wife.” And maybe he didn’t need to add that last part, but he lacks good sense at the best of times. 

Even Marley laughs at the shock and horror of Harry’s expression. The blush on his cheeks goes from amusing to endearing in a matter of moments, and he’s about to start apologising, Louis can tell.

“I– I’m sorry.” Bingo. “I just saw your ring, and your daughter, and I thought–”

Louis lets out one last chuckle before moving to calm Harry down. “It’s fine. You just rushed out before we could correct you, it’s– I just never took the ring off.”

“Oh. Did, um–?” Harry chances a look at Marley, who’s drifted over to Niall to most likely retrieve the goodies she brought for Louis that are now for Harry. “Divorce?”

Louis searches Harry’s face for a reason not to be honest. Every time he tells someone that he’s a hopeless widower, an awful look of pity crowds their expression and he’s sick of the _I’m so sorry_ ’s and the _Oh, you poor thing_ ’s. But there's something in those eyes that keeps him coming back and making him want to trust him. What with the way Harry opened up to him last night anyway, it's like he deserves to hear this.

Louis can neither keep eye contact nor keep his voice from cracking when he says, "No. We, um, she passed away a few years ago. In a car crash." His hands start to shake violently, the memory resurfacing without his consent. "She died upon impact, hit her head on the glass."

Louis winces, his own head wound aching in sympathy for his deceased wife. His hands are trembling in his lap, so hard that not even Harry's firm grip assuages the vibrations. 

"It's alright," Harry assures him. 

Louis blinks up at him through his tears, afraid to see exactly what he expected. But the empty pity isn't there. Instead, Harry's got a firm, comforting look on his face, the only indication that he's personally moved by the information being the tears pooling in his bright eyes.

Louis nods to agree with him and blinks away his tears quickly as he sees Marley approaching the bed. She's toting a small brown paper bag that has _Daddy_ written across it in big, sloppy letters that were probably written by snickering Niall. Underneath it are the smaller, neater words, _and Harry_ , that Marley must've just taken the time to write.

"Is that for us, love?"

She nods, dumping the contents of the bag onto a startled Harry's lap. “I’ve got candies and stickers,” she points at each one as she goes, “And tattoos and– Oh. You’ve already got tattoos Harry. Daddy has lots, too. The tattoos can be for Uncle Niall, then.”

At that point Niall decides to make himself completely known, “Uncle Niall would love for you to put on a lot of temporary tattoos on him. You wanna go do that now?” Niall shoots a wink at Louis that Harry completely misses in favour of his interest in the lollipops that Marley had brought along. 

“Yeah!”

Marley scoops up an entire armful of the goodies into the bag, accidentally stealing back all but the one lollipop that’s in Harry’s hand.

“Bloody Indian giver,” Louis grumbles. Then he smiles. “I taught her well.” 

“Well now that I know that you’re up for grabs– you are right?” Louis snorts, can’t help it, but he nods. “Right. Guess I can do some real flirting then? I’ve been holding back. You’re quite attractive, so that’s been hard, mind you. You alright with that?”

Louis pretends to consider it, even though he feels a small light flick on inside him. This could be the one sure sign of him finally finding someone to depend on other than Niall. He’s tired of Marley having no one but him in her life, tired of her having to be the only source of positivity in his life. She’s more than enough to him, of course, but he can’t put that burden on a six year old that’s finally starting to grow into her own.

“Going after an older man with a daughter? Risky.”

“What can I say,” Harry pulls out a damn _dimple_ on him, “I like what I like.”

Louis slides under the thin hospital blanket, but not before picking up Harry’s phone from the floor. He inputs his phone number and tosses the phone towards the foot of the bed, like that’s that and no one’s gonna say anything about it.

“Ouch!” Harry complains.

“Oh, shut up, you’ll live.” Louis doesn’t mean it, hope that his playful smile lets Harry know that. “Thought cats had nine lives, eh?” He tugs at one of the long, spiral curls hanging off Harry’s shoulder for emphasis.

Harry pouts exaggeratedly. “Where’ve Marley and Niall gone?”

“To the toilets to apply temporary tattoos. You missed that bit in your obsession with the fancy sucker, eh?”

Harry doesn’t answer. He just does that thing again where he spaces out. It lasts longer than last time though, and Louis gets genuinely worried for a second. But he bounces back quickly enough, eyes lighting up in conjunction with his bright and excited smile.

“Does Marley like the aquarium?”

Louis scoffs. “Are you kidding? She loves it. Makes me take her every month on the 15th. She calls it ‘Aquarium Day.’ Loves fish like crazy, that one.”

“That’s great.” Harry suddenly acquires a soft smile. “You should bring her down one day, ask for me at the ticket booth. My friend, Liam, can bring you guys to the Crustaceans  where I’m interning.”

Louis nods in agreement, but he doesn’t have time to say anything, because Niall and Marley return the moment he opens his mouth to speak.

Niall’s entire face and arms are covered in scattered tattoos of cats and rainbows and butterflies. Marley looks entirely too happy with herself, skipping into the room with a bright, feline smile on her face, nose scrunched up and eyes teary like she’d been laughing. She rounds the bed and leaps onto her father’s lap. Louis only winces a little bit, the morphine having finally kicked in, but a wave of pride ebbs in him. She really is his only successful project in life.

“Marley Jay Tomlinson, what on earth have you done to your uncle.”

Harry seems to have come back from his momentary daze, and quirks an eyebrow at Louis. “Jay?”

Marley nods before Louis can. “After my nan! She’s really lovely, you should meet her! She’d love your hair.”

“That she would,” Louis has to concur. “She always got so disappointed when I brought home people who didn’t have nice hair. Was the weirdest fucking thing ever.”

Niall makes a big sweeping gesture, turning a full 360 degrees so as to showcase Marley’s entire masterpiece. It’s quite artful, really, the way they’re all so evenly spaced out.

“They’re all so evenly spaced out,” Harry says.

A smile melts onto Louis’ face. Harry had gone and read his mind, something that not many people are able to do. Niall has been trying to get into Louis’ head since they were teenagers; Harry’s gone and done it in a day.

“Isn’t my little girl such an _artist?_ ”

Marley spins around to look at him. “Daddy, if I was a real artist, I wouldn’t do it with _tattoos_. I would use… Paint. I like painting.”

“Tattoos can be art, love. ‘Ave you seen me arms lately? It takes someone quite talented to do that, yeah?”

She nods, clearly upset that she’s lost the argument. Louis simply tightens his arms around her waist, and reaches around to cover her ears. He leans back towards Harry, gets really close to his ear and whispers,

“Her name is a weed pun.”

Harry nods. “I thought so.”

-

It takes Louis approximately a week from then to be cleared for discharge from the hospital, and two more of texting Harry ridiculous pictures of himself bored in his office until Harry himself is released. When that time does come, Louis takes the liberty in reminding Harry of his promise to take him and Marley on a VIP tour of the aquarium. 

Harry responds enthusiastically, sending Louis his work schedule and too many smiley faces. Marley is excited when hears the news, and still had thankfully not noticed the mysterious disappearance of Bubbly and his bowl. Louis hopes it stays that way.

They go early on a Saturday, right when the aquarium opens. There's a man at the ticket booth that looks about Harry's age, wearing a playoff shirt that could be considered too small by some standards. His smile is genuine, even though it's just past nine in the morning, and Louis already doesn't like him.

Marley can't even see over the countertop, but shouts, “Two please!” anyway.

“Oh, relax,” Louis fake chides. “We're looking for Harry? Said that–” Louis catches sight of his name tag, “Oh! You're Liam. He'd said to ask you. For him.” Louis chuckles at his own awkward attempts at… whatever this is. “Two tickets please.”

Liam raises an eyebrow, looks vaguely amused. “I.D.?” Louis slides his driver's license underneath the divider along with the cash for the tickets. “Ah, yes, Louis. And that must be Marley down there. Yeah, Harry mentioned you. Lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.” Liam covers his mouth. “Oops, I swore. Sorry.”

Louis can't help his snort. “Trust me, she's heard worse.”

“Well,” Liam's turned around to fetch something, “It won't be at my hands– Harry, you there?”

Static comes through the walkie-talkie, followed by a loud whisper. “ _Liam!_ You have to use the code names!”

Liam's eyeroll proves to be close competition for Louis’ own. He's impressed.

Liam also sighs into the walkie-talkie, as if to emphasize the fact that he's very much not doing this because he wants to.

“Blowfish, this is Killer Whale. You have a guest at the ticket booth.”

Harry's giggle sounds through the speaker, and Louis’ smile is completely involuntary. 

“Killer Whale, Blowfish copies your message. Please direct the guest _s_ to the Crustaceans exhibit. Over and out. “

“Dork,” Liam grumbles. “Right. So you're gonna follow the signs to the Crustaceans because it's new and it's labeled everywhere. Good luck.”

Louis grabs Marley's hand, lets her hold the tickets and a map. “Nice to meet you, Liam!” he calls over his shoulder.

It's a lie.

-

The Crustaceans is indeed advertised everywhere, so Louis doesn't get lost. They find Harry feeding a tank full of exotic looking fish, Louis praying that his daughter doesn't remember her own.

“Woah!” She pulls away from Louis very suddenly. “These lobsters are _blue_!”

Harry lights up at her enthusiasm, points at the lobster through the glass, over her head.

“They're not actually lobster,” he says. “They're crayfish. They're super-cool name is Procambarus alleni. They come from Florida and they like to keep to themselves.”

Marley rattles off about ten questions about the crustacean and the fish that also reside in its tank. Louis watches them fondly, a picture perfect scene unfolding right before his eyes. Harry answers her questions easily, catching Louis’ eye and grinning like this is all he's ever wanted. 

“You're really good with her,” Louis comments while Marley's subdued with ice cream. 

Harry just shrugs it off. “I love kids. Would love to have my own, but… I guess I'll just stick to teaching other people's kids about the ocean's wonderful inhabitants.”

“Maybe you can give me a private class on one of the many creatures of the deep sometime.” Louis lowers his voice. “Maybe live up to your codename? _Blow_ fish?”

Harry bursts out laughing, so suddenly that even Marley wants to know what's so funny.

"I've made some terrible jokes in my life, I'll admit to that. But that was just awful.” Harry wipes a tear from his eye. “You don't flirt much, do you?”

Louis rolls his eyes, picks up Marley, who's starting to fall behind from exhaustion. “Excuse me if I've had more important things on my mind than how to flirt with a curly-haired marine biologist. Been single for a long while, you know.” He's not meaning to make Harry feel bad but that happens anyway.

“Right, of course. I'm sorry. It was a valiant attempt, though. I admire a good innuendo.”

“Thanks.”

Harry's walked them to the front gate to see them off, while Louis tries and fails miserably to keep the smile off of his face. Pathetic.

“When are are we seeing Harry again?” Marley asks happily.

“When you wipe all of that chocolate off your face.”

Marley uses her shirt sleeve to try and rid her lips off the ice cream. Louis appreciates her enthusiasm and uses the distraction as an opportunity to ask Harry the same question.

Harry makes a suggestion. “How about dinner? Tomorrow night? And the night after that.”

“That’s an awful lot of dinner, Styles. You paying?”

Harry smirks, chances a glance at Marley, who’s still scrubbing at her face with a wet and dirty sleeve. Louis follows his eyes. It’s the picture of gross, has Louis wondering just how well Harry would fit into her life. He looks more endeared than anything by her reapplying the ice cream that she’d already wiped off of her face.

“Earth to Styles.”

He doesn't respond, so Louis gently pats his arm.

“What?” Harry blinks. “Yeah, definitely.”

Louis has no doubt in his mind that Harry has no idea what he’s agreeing to, and these space-outs are getting a little worrying. It might be sleazy, but he’ll go with it anyway. Louis doesn’t have much cash to spare.

“Alright. See you tomorrow, then.”

“Bye, Harry!” Marley shouts over her dad’s shoulder. “See you!”

-

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Louis is in the back of Harry's pick-up truck, something that he should have known a twenty-five year old intern would own. He's parked it in a large field, one that Louis didn't know existed. He supposes it's a given, considering they live just on the border between city and country. 

“No.” Harry spreads out the blanket and leaves the tailgate open. “Cliché dinners in restaurants are so boring.”

“But _Harry_ ,” Louis whines, “I wore a _suit_. And  it's _cold_. And now I look even _stupider_.”

“You're worse than your daughter.”

Louis catches his eye, and they both laugh. 

“Alright.” He claps his hands together. “Charm me, Styles. What's this big special meal you say you've got planned?”

Harry pulls two sandwiches out of the picnic basket next to him.

Louis, the asshole that he is, rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. 

“Shut your mouth and eat the damn sandwich, look at the fucking stars, and hold my hand, you asshat.”

“Where’s the coy, sweet Styles that I met all those weeks ago?” Louis can’t stop smiling though, Harry’s hand in his, because he likes this.

Harry cuddles himself underneath Louis’ chin like a kitten. “I’m right here. You’re just a dick sometimes.”

Louis doesn’t know much about love. He knows that he loves his daughter, his mother, his sisters, Niall. He knows that he loved his wife more than he thinks he can ever love any woman ever. Woman, probably being the operative word. Because Harry’s worming his way into his heart, finding a spot under the list of _Those That Louis Loves_. It’s not an explosion, not a sudden realisation. It’s just an inkling, a small splotch on the page that will be the next chapter of Louis’ life. He’s pulling himself out of the depression thats  her death left him in. He’s going to be there for his daughter, he’s going to be there for Harry, Harry will be there for him. He can see himself falling in love with this baby-faced marine biologist that’s out to steal his heart. Nothing can replace the love he had and continues to have for his wife, but there’s no rule that says there’s only one person that he’s ever going to fall in love with. The universe can’t be that cruel. She helped him find his way when he was a stupid teenager, hell-bent on being the worst person he could be. She saved him from what he would’ve turned into. Harry’s going to pick up the pieces she left behind, he can tell, and it’s going to mean everything.

Louis kisses Harry then, soft and meaningful, trying to get his thoughts across. It may be futile, because Harry will never know what he’s thinking unless he says it, but it’s soothing for them both, knowing that they have this moment if nothing else. 

Harry sort of short circuits, blinking as his eyes go blank for a moment too long.

“Harry?” He’s back the next moment, though, before Louis starts to properly worry. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry smiles, kisses him again. “Sandwich.”

-

Louis’ couch is where they find themselves, sipping wine and giggling into each other's necks. Before either of them know it, Louis has leaned in too close to Harry's face, their cherry scented breaths mingling. It isn't a sweet moment, not when Louis dives in tongue first with absolutely no gentleness. It's rather gross, but filled with lust that Louis hasn't felt in a long time. The glasses make their way to the coffee table, forgotten, Harry climbing into Louis’ lap and rocking his hips down like he's been starved of this since the moment they met. And maybe he has; Louis feels like he has. There's a newfound fire in his gut that hasn't been there in years, and embarrassingly enough, Louis lets out the first moan. Harry pulls back to smirk at him, tearing his shirt off quickly and promoting Louis to follow suit. It gets heated fast, the air around them getting warmer accordingly. Harry’s face is going red, the flush travelling down his chest, probably because Louis is just staring at his torso and the tattoos that had been previously hidden. He makes Louis feel so _small_ , when in reality they’re not but four inches apart in height.

“Gonna do something about it?” Harry asks, all faux dominance, just teasing. “Don’t see a ‘Don’t touch the art’ sign.”

“Funny,” Louis retorts half-heartedly before latching his lips onto Harry’s chest, flipping their position with surprising ease and slowly getting himself between Harry's knees.

Louis sighs, looking up at Harry nervously. This is, for lack of a better term, unchartered territory for him. He’s only ever been with women. Harry seems to notice, without him having to say, so he brushes his fingers through Louis’ fringe.

“Come here.” He takes control, tugging Louis back onto his lap. “Let yourself be taken care of for once.” 

For once. That would be a lie. He's been letting his daughter essentially take care to keep him from spiraling into a pitfall for years. Louis doesn't deserve to be taken care of.

“Yes, you do.” Louis thought that out loud, apparently. “Relax, it's just me. It'll be good, I promise.”

Louis is long gone after that, thinking with his dick and not his brain. He resumes their heated kiss, essentially dry-humping Harry desperately while Harry works his hands between them to undo Louis’ jeans. It doesn't do much but relieve some pressure, but Louis doesn't want to move to take them off. 

“Up,” Harry manages to say. 

Louis just shakes his head, his hips never ceasing movement, even though his head has fallen onto Harry's shoulder. So Harry takes matters, matters being Louis’ ass, into his own hands and gets to his feet. Louis lets out a noise at the change in gravity, and pressure, tightening his grip and whispering for Harry to hurry. 

Harry hushes him, lowering them both onto to Louis’ bed when they get there. Louis’ breathing has long since turned ragged, and the pressure that Harry's body returns to his dick does nothing to help that. He gasps, rolling his hips up repeatedly for more, until Harry pulls away and takes Louis' jeans down with him. He's painfully hard, and has turned into a shameless, begging pile of what used to be himself, groaning at the intense look that Harry's wearing while muttering _pleasepleaseplease_. 

“Shh.” Harry drapes himself across the entire length of Louis’ body again, both of them now only in their boxers. Harry thrusts down once, drawing a moan from Louis. “You've never had it like this, have you? You've never gotten to give it all up.”

Louis shakes his head, can feel himself blushing, adding to the heat of his already-fiery skin.

“Please.” His voice has shrunk to a whimper in submission. “Please, Harry.”

“What?” Harry's _teasing_ him. And he _likes_ it. “Anything you want, just tell me.” Neither of them have moved, and Louis is just getting more turned on the more frustrated the gets.

“Touch–” He's embarrassed now, blushing and refusing to look Harry in the eye, choking on his words. “ Just touch me, please.” 

Then Louis’ boxers are gone, and he's naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time, and the fog momentarily clears. He doesn't say anything, just ignores it and gasps when Harry starts nipping down the line of his jaw.

“I'm gonna take care of you, I promise. Just stop thinking.” Harry's taken a hold of his cock now, testing the waters for both of them, making sure Louis is comfortable. He leans down and kisses Louis’ lips softly. “Feel good?”

Louis nods, gripping the sheets. It feels embarrassingly good.

“Been–” Harry squeezes tighter, experimentally, and he hisses. “Been a while.”

Harry moves his hand, drops his weight onto Louis’ body, their dicks rubbing against each other until Harry decides it'd be better to take them both in his stupidly big hand. 

“Coulda done that in the first place,” Louis quips. Its intended effect gets lost in how breathy his words are and the way his hips buck up for more.

Harry doesn't justify it with a response, just tilts his head back as far as he can with the awkward angle and moans. It's hardly a groundbreaking sensation, but Louis can't deny that he feels much the same, especially now with Harry's chiseled-as-fuck jawline right in his face. All he can do is roughly pull Harry down by the back of his neck and start working on a vicious bruise for him to go home with. And to work. Louis is more smug than he should be.

Harry must be able to tell, because he speeds up his hand and his own hips in a way that catches Louis off guard.

“ _Fuck._ ” He can't help but groan. “God, Harry.”

Harry shuts him up by kissing him, wet and dirty, biting at his lips long after they've gone numb. Louis’ moans are turning into whimpers that turn into long whines that get lost in Harry's mouth. 

Louis comes right after Harry does, like a trigger, and he nearly misses it. Except he doesn't because it his him like a train and has him crying out against Harry's lips. Christ, if he comes this hard from a measly handjob, Harry could properly ruin him if… _when_ they actually fuck.

Harry doesn't bother rolling off of him, just collapses onto Louis, nosing at his neck. 

“That set the bar a little too high for a handy,” he says, breath caught after their few minutes of silence.

Seems like they're on the same page then.

“Weirdly,” Louis reluctantly concurs, “Do you have some sort of magic in your hands that I need to know about?”

Harry laughs, kisses Louis again, long and deep, for good measure.

“No, no magic. Just a gross, sticky stomach.”

“Because, you fuckwad,” Louis gripes, “You decided that you wanted to make a come sandwich. You've disappointed us both.”

Harry giggles. “Come sandwich… Shower?”

He lights up when he says it, so Louis can't keep the smile off of his face. He's only human, after all.

“Shower.” 

-

The next morning is something Louis would really like to erase from his mind. He had forgotten how Marley wakes him up every morning, and had failed to remind himself and Harry that they should probably wear something to sleep. That's why when Marley's nose is pressed against Louis’, his kneejerk reaction nearly dislodges the blanket from both his and Harry's waists.

“ _Shit_ , Marley. You scared me.”

Harry groans, Louis’ voice rousing him from sleep, apparently.

“Is that Harry?” she asks perceptively. He's raised such a smart girl. 

“Uh,” Louis starts to sweat, “Yes. Harry spent the night. Didn't want him sleeping on the couch, though, you know how uncomfortable that is.”

She nods importantly. “Did you sleep well, Harry?”

Harry emerges from behind Louis, hands over his chest. “I did, yes, thank you.”

“That's good… What's for breakfast, Daddy?”

Louis doesn't know.

“I, uh–” Harry clears his throat, albeit in vain, his voice remains gravelly with sleep. “I can whip up some chocolate chip pancakes?”

Marley lights up, happier than Louis' seen her in so long. His heart clenches, in a good and bad way simultaneously. He wants her to be this happy always, and if it starts with Harry making her chocolate chip pancakes, he might have to keep him around a little longer.

She runs out of the room, assumably to gather ingredients for Harry, and Louis collapses onto his back once more, stating at the ceiling with bleary eyes.

“I'm the worst father in the world.”

“No.” Harry appears in his line of vision. “You love her and she loves you. You'd do anything for her. It's obvious she's your whole world.”

“That's the _problem_.” His voice cracks. “I don't have anything else. After she died– I. Marley was the only person I saw for months. Niall had to take her to school, feed her. Had she not come home everyday and made sure _I_ was eating. She was _four_ _years old._ And she's the only reason I'm still alive.” Louis looks at Harry seriously. “I'm the worst– worst father in the _world._ ”

“If you think you've like… fucked her up somehow, you haven't. She's so smart and strong. You've both come out on the better end of a horribly unfair tragedy.” Harry pulls him into a sitting position, so he can wipe the stray tears from the corners of Louis’ eyes. “A terrible thing happened, and a lot of shit followed it, and you're both going to be fine. You're doing the best you can with the hand you've been dealt, and that makes you the best father you can possibly be.”

Louis thought he'd cried enough to last him a lifetime, but apparently not. Harry's words have turned on a new set of waterworks. 

“Thank you.”

Harry kisses him softly, in a way that Louis hasn't been kissed in years, in a way that he never thought he'd be kissed again. It's not pressing, just a gentle pressure that's nothing but giving and comfort.

“Thank you,” he whispers again.

“Don't thank me for the truth.”

-

They spend the day cooking, baking, watching a plethora of animated films on Louis’ laptop underneath a blanket fort. Harry keeps Marley smiling and happy when Louis isn't. Louis realises that he has to forget about the last few years and live for now, for Marley's happiness _today_ and for this stupid curly-haired idiot that's giving him and his daughter the best day at home that they've had since before she died. They would always spend days like this, and there's no doubt that Marley has missed them.

Harry essentially lets Marley bake the cookies on her own, and by the time Niall comes over to investigate the delicious smell wafting into his own flat, they're covered in batter and throwing chocolate chips into each other's mouths.

“Catch, Uncle Niall!” Marley shouts before throwing what looks like about seven morsels at his face. “You missed all of them.”

Niall pouts. “Would've worked better if you'd just thrown _one_.”

Marley pouts back. “I gave you better chances!”

“That she did,” Louis chimes in.

Harry nods in agreement.

The cookies end up as one big cookie that they break up into a bowl and eat until it's empty.

“This is the best day ever, Daddy,” Marley tells Louis as he's helping her change her soiled clothes.

He tries his hardest not to cry, and he succeeds until he's handing Harry a pair of joggers that he suddenly realises are _hers._ Niall is in the kitchen with Marley and Harry is standing right in front of him with sad eyes and a startled expression. Harry stumbles into action before Louis drops to the ground, crying harshly into the pants he's clutching in his hand.

Harry doesn't say anything, just lets him cry until he can't, and holds him close. It's been two years and it still hurts just like the day he got the news.

“It’s okay,” Harry says softly after a while. “She’d be proud of both of you, for being so strong for so long, for each other. You’re both so brave. I’m here for you, okay? I’d like to be here for you, if that’s alright.”

Louis just nods, burying his nose in Harry’s shoulder. They don’t move for a while, and eventually Niall and Marley come looking for them. Marley notices that Louis has been crying, and joins the hug, which just makes Louis cry some more. Niall joins then, having been in Harry’s place a dozen times since the accident.

Louis thinks it could be okay.

-

Louis takes Marley back to the aquarium one month later. She’d begged and begged, and after griping to Harry about Marley’s insistent nagging, Harry convinced him to bring her back. This time, Harry’s going to give them a special tour of the penguin's exhibit this time.

“ _Penguins?_ ”

“Yes, penguins, keep your socks on.”

He makes sure to keep a solid grip on her hand the entire time, lest she get swept up in the excitement of the many deep sea creatures. Louis knows how fascinating they are, and the only reason he doesn’t get sidetracked with her is because Harry has a firm grip on _his_ hand as he leads them through the aquarium.

“See those penguins with the cool hair?” Harry asks Marley when they finally get there. “Those are the rockhoppers. Not only because they hop across rocks, but because their hair makes them look like _rock stars_.”

“You look like a rock star, Harry.”

Harry pulls the most fake expression of excitement that Louis has ever seen, looking much too flattered for the offhand compliment. “ _Thank you_ , Marley. That’s very kind of you. You hear that Louis? I look like a rock star.”

“You look like a fucking frog,” Louis responds.

Harry laughs, a loud cackle that Louis should be used to hearing by now. It brings a smile to Louis’ face, not of his own volition, of course.

“I love you,” he says, without even thinking about it. When he does realise what he’s said, as does Harry, they just stare at each other wide-eyed for a very long moment.

Marley nudges Harry, drops her voice to a very loud whisper. “You’re supposed to say “I love you, too.’”

Harry clears his throat; a terrible habit, Louis has come to learn.

“I love you, too, of course.”

They won’t talk about it until later, but that’s just fine. Harry turns back to tell Marley more about the rockhoppers and the other penguins that Louis knows absolutely nothing about. Three years ago, he wanted nothing less than to be dead along with his wife, the guilt bearing down on him worse everyday. His daughter kept him going, had been his sole reason to keep fighting through every agonising day. And he thinks that it’s been worth it. Now he realises that he has so much more. He has Harry, now, this green-eyed klutz that keeps him on his toes. Niall comes around more for celebrations rather than emergencies, and even Liam makes his way into being his friend. He has so much more now, and he hopes that she’s proud of him and Marley both. They miss her, but they’re okay.

They’re going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments light up my heart and soul and are very much appreciated i want to hear your thoughts also if you've noticed any mistakes feel free to tell me


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